Huts Quotes - Page 5

• I see drawings and pictures in the poorest huts, in the dirtiest corner. And my mind is drawn toward these things by an irresistible force.

  Vincent Van Gogh

  Drawing, Corners, Poorest

  "Vincent Van Gogh: Art, Life, and Letters".

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• I exist as an annexe of the BBC. I'm down the road a bit from the main building, in a little hut.

  Alexei Sayle

  Littles, Building, Down The Road

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• God is dethroned; and although the incognizant masses are tardy in realizing the event, they feel the icy draught caused by that vacancy. Man enters upon a spiritual ice age; the established churches can no longer provide more than Eskimo huts where their shivering flock huddles together.

  Arthur Koestler

  Spiritual, Men, Ice

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• The great city is that which has the greatest man or woman: if it be a few ragged huts, it is still the greatest city in the whole world.

  Walt Whitman

  Men, Cities, Leaves Of Grass

  Walt Whitman (2016). “Poems by Walt Whitman”, p.74, Read Books Ltd

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• I am an obscure and patient pearl-fisherman who dives into the deepest waters and comes up with empty hands and a blue face. Some fatal attraction draws me down into the abysses of thought, down into those innermost recesses which never cease to fascinate the strong. I shall spend my life gazing at the ocean of art, where others voyage or fight; and from time to time I’ll entertain myself by diving for those green and yellow shells that nobody will want. So I shall keep them for myself and cover the walls of my hut with them.

  Gustave Flaubert

  Art, Strong, Wall

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• Château and hut, stone face and dangling figure, the red stain on the stone floor, and the pure water in the village well-thousands of acres of land-a whole province of France-all France itself-lay under the night sky, concentrated into a faint hairbreadth line. So does a whole world, with all its greatnesses and littlenesses, lie in a twinkling star.

  Charles Dickens

  Nature, Stars, Lying

  Charles Dickens (2012). “A Tale of Two Cities (Illustrated)”, p.171, Top Five Books LLC

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• But it is the knowledge of how contingent my unease is, how dependent on a baby that wails beneath my window one day and does not wail the next, that brings the worst shame to me, the greatest indifference to annihilation. I know somewhat too much; and from this knowledge, once one has been infected, there seems to be no recovering. I ought never to have taken my lantern to see what was going on in the hut by the granary. On the other hand, there was no way, once I had picked up the lantern, for me to put it down again. The knot loops in upon itself; I cannot find the end.

  J. M. Coetzee

  Baby, Taken, Hands

  J. M. Coetzee (2017). “Waiting for the Barbarians: A Novel”, p.19, Penguin

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• Although the circle dance is known throughout the entire world, the front dance is limited to the cultures of which the rectangular hut is a part.

  Curt Sachs

  Dance, Circles, Dancing

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• Taxi September along Jessore Road Oxcart skeletons drag charcoal load past watery fields thru rain flood ruts Dung cakes on treetrunks, plastic-roof huts Wet processions Families walk Stunted boys big heads don't talk Look bony skulls & silent round eyes Starving black angels in human disguise.

  Allen Ginsberg

  Rain, Eye, Angel

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• And why shouldn't the miraculous, / Caught on this earth, visit / The old man alone in his hut?

  Robert Bly

  Men, Earth, Caught

  Robert Bly (2013). “Stealing Sugar from the Castle: Selected and New Poems, 1950-2013: Selected Poems, 1950–2011”, p.107, W. W. Norton & Company

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• The dark aftermath of the frontier, of the vast promise of possibility this country first offered, is an inflated sense of American entitlement today. We want what we want, and we want it now. Easy credit. Fast food. A straight shot down the interstate from point A to point B. The endless highway is crowded with the kinds of cars large enough to take a mountain pass in high snow. Instead they are used to take children from soccer practice to Pizza Hut. In the process they burn fuel like there's no tomorrow. Tomorrow's coming.

  Anna Quindlen

  Soccer, Country, Children

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• For us to get to those huts and no one's home, it's going to be a kick to the nuts.

  Joe Teti

  Home, Nuts, Survival

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• In the Far East, a peasant has no problem that someone can be born from another universe into a human body, walk up to their hut one day and ask for something to eat and transport them into infinite galaxies of awareness.

  Frederick Lenz

  One Day, East, Body

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• There are even many huts built entirely of the universal aloe.

  Edward Burnett Tylor

  Universal, Built

  Edward Burnett Tylor (1861). “Anahuac; Or, Mexico and the Mexicans: Ancient and Modern”, p.36

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• Perspective, as its inventor remarked, is a beautiful thing. What horrors of damp huts, where human beings languish, may not become picturesque through aerial distance!

  George Eliot

  Beautiful, Distance, Perspective

  George Eliot (1996). “Daniel Deronda”, p.127, Wordsworth Editions

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• My birthplace was California, but I couldn't forget Armenia, so what is one's country? Is it land of the earth, in a specific place? Rivers there? Lakes? The sky there? The way the moon comes up there? And the sun? Is one's country the trees, the vineyards, the grass, the birds, the rocks, the hills and summer and winter? Is it the animal rhythm of the living there? The huts and houses, the streets of cities, the tables and chairs, and the drinking of tea and talking? Is it the peach ripening in summer heat on the bough? Is it the dead in the earth there?

  William Saroyan

  Summer, Country, Drinking

  "Antranik and the Spirit of Armenia" by William Saroyan, 1936.

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• I feel no disgust when I hear the confessions of those near their end, whose wounds are full of maggots...This may give you some idea of my daily work. Picture to yourself a collection of huts with 800 Lepers. No doctor; in fact, as there is no cure, there seems no place for a doctor's skill.

  Father Damien

  Doctors, Skills, Ideas

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• Huts they made then, and fire, and skins for clothing, And a woman yielded to one man in wedlock... ... Common, to see the offspring they had made; The human race began to mellow then. Because of fire their shivering forms no longer Could bear the cold beneath the covering sky.

  Lucretius

  Men, Sky, Fire

  Titus Lucretius Carus, Anthony M. Esolen (1995). “De rerum natura”, Johns Hopkins Univ Pr

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• If solid happiness we prize, Within our breast this jewel lies, And they are fools who roam. The world has nothing to bestow From our own selves our joys must flow, And that dear hut, our home.

  Nathaniel Cotton

  Happiness, Lying, Home

  Nathaniel Cotton (1800). “Poems by Nathaniel Cotton: With the Author's Life”, p.83

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• I'm in this absolutely gorgeous manor house with acres of quite beautiful countryside. I've got trout in the river, an organic vegetable garden, I've got my work 40 yards from my home. I don't mind being criticised, but where are they criticising from? Which hut are they criticising me from, exactly?

  Jay Kay

  Beautiful, Home, Garden

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• We had a dog, Apples. He was 13 years old, toothless, blind and had the worst breath this side of Jabba the Hut. But he was the sweetest dog, and I cried and cried when he died.

  Marlee Matlin

  Dog, Years, Apples

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• Once Mo had closed the gates, he returned to his little stone hut, and his half-eaten sandwich of butter and canned sardines, and his mug of thick hot chocolate, which every night he poured carefully into a thermos labeled COFFEE.

  Lauren Oliver

  Coffee, Night, Chocolate

  Lauren Oliver (2011). “Liesl & Po”, p.41, Hachette UK

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• The people I see from my window. In the huts, in the distance. They're all dressed the same.' 'Ah, those people,' said Father, nodding his head and smiling slightly. 'Those people...well, they're not people at all, Bruno.' Bruno frowned. 'They're not?' he asked, unsure what Father meant by that.

  John Boyne

  Father, Distance, People

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• But tonight, because Rome had fallen and Felix was dead, because of Valerius’s shame, the empty hut seemed horribly lonely, and there was a small aching need in him for somebody to notice, even if they were not glad, that he had come home.

  Rosemary Sutcliff

  Lonely, Home, Rome

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• One evening, when we were already resting on the floor of our hut, dead tired, soup bowls in hand, a fellow prisoner rushed in and asked us to run out to the assembly grounds and see the wonderful sunset. Standing outside we saw sinister clouds glowing in the west and the whole sky alive with clouds of ever-changing shapes and colors, from steel blue to blood red. The desolate grey mud huts provided a sharp contrast, while the puddles on the muddy ground reflected the glowing sky. Then, after minutes of moving silence, one prisoner said to another, "How beautiful the world could be.

  Viktor E. Frankl

  Beautiful, Running, Moving

  Viktor E. Frankl (2015). “Man's Search For Meaning, Gift Edition”, p.37, Beacon Press

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